1857. 



NEW ENGLAND FARMER. 



355 



(6.) we do not doubt that the milk of spayed cows 

 will be principally used. 



Such is the milk which the Dock de la vie a bon 

 marche now introduces for consumption. 



This milk, the production of which for a long 

 time yet will be far from meeting the wants of 

 those who appreciate its excellent qualities, sells 

 for a higher price than ordinary milk. For it is 

 necessary to pay a higher price to the farmer 

 either to overcome by the advantage offered them, 

 the resistance which routine always opposes to the 

 best discoveries, or to compensate for the risk of 

 mortality which the cow undergoes in the opera- 

 tion of spacing. 



If, as we doubt not, the milk of spayed cows 

 takes the place in domestic economy it should oc- 

 cupy, the Dock is assured of satisfying gradually 

 the exigencies of the consumption, by the numer- 

 ous operations it is causing to be made from the 

 present time. Delamarre, 



Proprietor of the Dock modele de la tie a boa marche. 



KOTES TO THE ARTICLE ON MILK. 



1. It is known that cows' milk is not good for 

 domestic use till a month or five weeks after calv- 

 ing; and it is well known that farmers put away 

 their calves eight or ten days after birth. 



2. This milk generally predominates, as it is 

 common to milk into the sixth and even into the 

 seventh month of gestation. 



3. Rue de Croissant JVo. 44, Patis. 



4. One precaution we would recommend ; that 

 is, to avoid placing the milk over a blazing fire, but 

 to submit it to the action of a mild fire. 



5. The spaying of cows was known in remote 

 antiquity. In modern times the practice of this 

 operation with the design of increasing the quality 

 of the milk of cows dates back but about twenty- 

 five years. It was applied with advantage in the 

 production of milk, in 1830, by Mr. Winn, of 

 Natchez, Mississippi, U, S. But Mr. Winn and 

 liis successors proceeded by the cesarian operation, 

 which presented serious difficulties, and was often 

 followed by the death of the animal. At the pres- 

 ent time, by a proceeding recently discovered, a 

 skilful veterinary surgeon, M. Charlier, executes 

 this operation without an external incision' and ren- 

 ders the chances of mortality much less. 



6. AH persons who are in the habit of tasting 

 milk, readily recognize the milk of spayed coivs by 

 its more unctuous and sweeter taste. 



li'or the New England Farmer. 



POHE BREAD A^D JOHNKY CAKE. 



Friend Farmer: — Any one who can appreciate 

 good things, must thank you for your receipt from 

 HnlVs Journal of Health, which tells us how to 

 make "Western Pone Bread :" but I think there is 

 a mistake there, or I am mistaken ; please rectify, 

 either way. You say, or rather Dr. Hall says, "the 

 true constituents of a pone of bread are meal, milk, 

 salt, nothing else. If you add eggs, it becomes 

 johnny cake," Now so far as I know, or believe, 

 johnny cake, or journey cake, is made of meal, salt 

 and water, nothing else — at the North, baked on a 

 trencher or piece of barrel-head before the fire, (ask 

 the first old-fashioned country woman you see,) or 

 at the South, baked on a clean hoe before the fire, 

 and called "hoe cake," or betw^een two cabbage 



leaves, and put in the ashes, and called "ash cake." 

 (Ask the first aunt Dinah of the South you may 

 happen to see.) A pone is, I think, a loaf of corn 

 meal bread which belongs exclusively south of Ma- 

 son and Dixon's line. There are many kinds — raised 

 pone, buttermilk pone, bachelor's or egg pone, and 

 perhaps more. My reason for thinking this is, I 

 have never seen a northerner who was familiar with 

 the word pone. "Corn dodge" is another nice prep- 

 aration, where originating I do not know, but wor- 

 thy universal use. The journey cake is made now 

 by emigrants, and we frequently see them baking 

 it for breakfast by the road-side. Union State. 



For the New England Fanner. 



BOMETHmG ABOUT BIRDS. 



BY THE "PEASANT BARD." 



I have many times thought, Mr. Editor, that 

 there was as much "going on" among the inferior 

 branches of the animal creation, as among the com- 

 munities composed of the lords of creation, had we 

 the disposition or the eye for its detection. Occa- 

 sionally, a casual occurrence establishes me in the 

 belief of the truth stated. Birds, for instance, have 

 their plans, their hopes, joys and griefs ; are like 

 us subject to annoyances ; have their love of frolic, 

 and, I am sorry to add, their traits of vindictive- 

 ness. A little incident which I witnessed, afforded 

 me much amusement at the time, and may interest 

 some bird-lover among your readers. 



1 was standing upon my door-stone, picking my 

 teeth after supper, on a yellow summer Sunday af- 

 ternoon, listening to the "cheer-up! cheer-o!" of a 

 robin in the top of an ash near by, and wondering 

 if the little songster, so sweetly disi^ensing and rec- 

 ommending cheer, was himself ever a-weary, when 

 my attention was suddenly arrested and turned in 

 another direction. A wren, a lively, restless, mu- 

 sical little body, that had waked the early morn, 

 and filled all the echoes of my premises by day for 

 a week or two previous, — was coming towards the 

 house, flying like a shot, and chattering vehement- 

 ly at the same time, pursued by a large, speckled 

 woodpecker. I "sensed" the whole business at sight. 

 The little piratical busy-body had been on a ma- 

 rauding excursion, and had, in the temporary ab- 

 sence of the woodpecker, been inspecting that bird's 

 domestic arrangements, household furniture, Szc, in 

 a manner by no means agreeable to the owner's 

 ideas of propriety, or neighborly courtesy. The 

 woodpecker was fully possessed of "one idea," and 

 that was revenge. It was plainly developed in his 

 motions, and in his expressive countenance. "I'll 

 fix you," was plainly written out. "Don't you v.'ish 

 you were able?" said the wren, as he darted into 

 an empty martin-box on the gable of my dwelling. 

 The woodpecker perched himself on the apex of 

 the roof of the house, immediately above the box ; 

 and with his head turned slightly awry, nailed his 

 desperate looking eye on the entrance. After the 

 interval of perhaps a minute, the wren peeped out, 

 cocked up his eye to the enemy, and chattered 

 most insultingly. At the least motion from the 

 woodpecker, he. would dart back again fvilo the 

 box. 



This sort of play continued for some fifteen min- 

 utes, greatly to my amusement, and reminded me 

 of boyish quarrels of school days ; the one boy 

 small, but "smart" and saucy ; the other large and 



